


Hang Me Up On Your Bedroom Wall

by ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal



Series: How To Fuck Your Sokovian Slut [22]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Scarlet Witch (Comic), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bittersweet Ending, Breeding, Chains, Creampie, Dark Tony Stark, Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Evil Author Day, Evil Tony Stark, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Relationship, Girls in Chains, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Impregnation, Kidnapping, Misogyny, Murder, Obsession, Physical Abuse, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Rough Sex, Sex, Song: What's Wrong (PVRIS), The Author Regrets Everything, Title From A PVRIS Song, Vaginal Sex, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-22 09:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22314418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal/pseuds/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal
Summary: Or, in which Tony Stark, Playboy, Philanthropist, blah blah blah, one of the richest men in the world, the man who wants for nothing, among other things, becomes obsessed with Wanda Maximoff, a no-name café worker in downtown New York. Eventually, he decides to spirit her away from her meaningless existence, and give her a new one, filled with purpose and meaning...whether she wants it or not.
Relationships: Past Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Wanda Maximoff/Tony Stark
Series: How To Fuck Your Sokovian Slut [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1302323
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	Hang Me Up On Your Bedroom Wall

**Author's Note:**

> STOP. COLLABORATE AND LISTEN. 
> 
> Let me put it to you nicely. What you're about to read is well...yeah. It's rough. Ugly, even. I really tapped into my dark side for this one. For those of you who came in late, I took my usual themes and turned them on their head. _Way, way_ on their head. 
> 
> So...well, if you've gotten this far, you know what you're about to get into.

//

_ “Now you lay and wait, for their screams will haunt you in their dreams.” _

_ \- Hespith, Dragon Age: Origins _

//

**_(A Question V.2 / Tiny Little Pinpricks / Asset Appraisal / Don’t Do This At Home / So Much For My Happy Ending)_ **

//

What do you get the man who has everything?

Well, everything that is inanimate, anyways. That was the fine print in the question being asked, regarding a man, well-dressed, well-groomed, with a pleasant, cheerful expression, currently exiting a bar to melt away into the crowds of people that roamed the street, seeking the thrills of the New York nightlife. He moved to his own beat, marched to his own drum, giving off an aura that he was a man of wealth and taste - and he certainly was - though the tastes were something that, had anyone been unfortunate enough to learn what they were, well, they would’ve been running the other way screaming, assuming they lived long enough to even do so.

And that was how Tony Stark, billionaire and CEO of Stark Industries, stepped onto the stage.

The man who had everything crossed a street like any other of the mindless rabble who spent their lives trying to make the kind of money he could’ve made in the time it took him to take a singular deep breath, on the prowl for something. You see, he was going shopping, though not the kind of shopping that one would’ve expected. This was not the kind of browsing that could’ve been done by looking through an online catalog in the wee hours of the night, or by meandering through halls upon halls of grand malls, this was a very personal shopping, one that required an eye as sharp as Tony’s. 

He was going shopping for sculpting materials, and not the kind like clay or whatever it was they used in sculpting naked men.

Sharp eyes - concealed by the glasses he wore - darted this way and that, not searching for threats, but for the perfect candidate. His requirements were strict, yes, of the highest caliber they were, but they weren’t the kind that were restrictive either, any of the many, many women he passed could’ve done, if not for one condition or another they failed to fulfill. He had been searching for weeks now, for the perfect candidate, and he was no closer to finding her as he had been when he’d first started out. Once upon a time, he’d had a candidate, a most beautiful one, but she’d walked out on him, spurned his promises of riches and perfection because she had  _ principles, _ and apparently thought that she was too good for him.

Pity.

With a twist of a corner, Tony turned into a nameless shop in the middle of a busy block, and his eyes fell upon a single woman, young and petite, manning the counter. She had hazel eyes that gleamed slightly in the lights of the empty room, a face framed by gentle brunette hair. Her expression, one of tepid prosaicness, swiftly turned to surprise and then welcome, in the kind of way that seemed forced, and then she spoke, sweet honeyed words flowing out betwixt her lips.

“Good evening, how may I help you?”

Scanning the menu quick as a flash, Tony rattled off the first combination of things that sounded good to him, but the food, the drink, or anything but the woman didn’t matter to him. It seemed, - as he ate his two-am late night snack and made conversation with this young, petite, perfect little thing, - that he had at last found what he was looking for.

Wanda Maximoff was her name, and she was perfect.

//

Being that her life revolved around talking to people, Wanda didn’t really pay much attention to Tony Stark, at least at first.

When he’d shown up again the next night, saying something about wanting to work his way down the menu, well, she hadn’t really protested. Money was money, and he tipped well, more than she would’ve expected. He was every bit the gentleman, polite, well-mannered, and friendly, keeping her company during her lonely watch over the café, using his sharp wit and penchant for conversation to keep her hooked, entertained and most importantly, happy, well as happy as one could get talking with their only customer in the late hours of the night. He listened to her with open ears and an equally open mind, as she told him of her woes of living in the big city, financial and personal. 

So, on this one night, two months later, well, she hadn’t expected anything different. Tony had put in his usual appearance, showing up to converse and dine, and so she hadn’t paid it much thought. She’d assumed the nondescript jacket and pants were the product of the weather outside, it wasn’t particularly nice out, after all. So when he’d bid his goodbyes and given her a tip, she hadn’t thought a thing about it. The next shift would be along in a few minutes anyways. So, with a slight bit of anticipation - of the going home kind - filling her heart as she made to leave, Wanda collected her things, stepped out the back, employee’s only entrance and exit-

-and felt a sharp pain in her neck, before it all went black.

//

Wanda’s car was filthy.

Ratty, even, it was barely serviceable, as far as cars went, but well, that didn’t exactly matter. As he gently strapped Wanda into the passenger’s seat, Tony took a moment to admire the unconscious woman. This was for her own good, she’d understand, he reasoned, as he stepped into the driver’s side and gently, carefully, began to head off into the night with his new canvas. He had to stop for gas, because Wanda - even with his  _ very _ generous donations - wasn’t able to quite scrape up the money for a full-tank, but that didn’t slow him down particularly much as he drove down a country road, towards a place that only he knew of.

A beautiful, lovely lakeside cabin, far from civilization, that he’d personally built just for Wanda. 

Gently carrying Wanda inside, making sure to lock the door behind him, Tony ferried his new charge into a room, lavishly decorated according to her tastes. Setting Wanda down on the bed, this beautiful, Sokovian-styled thing, he took a moment to sit by her side, and watch as she slept, her expression, her position, everything about her a mockery of a woman at peaceful rest. Fingers trailed along her throat, and Tony took a moment to marvel at how fragile this beautiful, petite little woman was. But that was okay, he’d mold her into something stronger, something better, something  _ his, _ and she’d accept it, eventually.

Once upon a time, he’d believed in love, that one day, he’d meet the woman of his dreams. In his naivety, he’d believed that it would’ve been a simple matter of letting fate bring her and him together, and from there the sparks would fly, their hearts would intertwine, and someday, many years down the line, he’d be able to tell their kids that it was love at first sight, that theirs was a love story worthy to be writ upon a galactic stage forever after. Oh, how naive he’d been, to let  _ her _ be that woman, to let  _ her _ string him along like that, letting him taste wisps and breaths of a dream he’d held onto like a lifeline, and then crush it beneath  _ her _ heel and leave him with a broken heart and an equally broken soul.

Hence, this, this...independent action.

An idle thumb brushed against Wanda’s cheek. The brunette slumbered on, unaware of Tony’s appraisal, of him reviewing her body like a sculptor would his materials. He tapped her lips idly, one, two, three, and then he began to undo her clothes, taking them apart piece by piece, savoring the moment. Wanda offered no resistance - or much of anything, really - and it was a simple matter to relieve her of her sweater, of her pants, of the bra and panties that lay beneath. All of it was cheap, tasteless and frankly, an insult to the beautiful young woman, sort of like trying to garb a model worthy of exhibition - like say, Karlie Kloss or Magdalena Frackowiak - on a runway in a burlap bag and gunge. 

He’d give her fancier clothes, worthy of a woman of her stature.

But first, he had to take precautions. Producing some cuffs - ones with elongated chains - he began to restrain Wanda, chaining her to the bed. There was enough movement that she would be able to shift comfortably enough, but she wouldn’t be leaving until he said so. Which was good, he thought, as he began to undress himself, because he had to gift her with her new purpose, and he imagined she would’ve stupidly attempted to run away, and well-

-he couldn’t be having that.

//

Wanda swam out of the darkness in groggy fashion.

It was like waking up from a hangover, and she’d had a few of those in her college days. As she woke up properly, feeling achy and sore in some places, she heard something fall to the floor, and then the clearing of a throat.

“Huh, you’re awake sooner than I expected, I was kinda hoping to get in some warm ups while you were out-”

Turning her head - slowly, like moving through molasses - Wanda caught sight of Tony Stark, of whom was completely naked. The man approached her as if it was perfectly normal to be such in the company of others, and then it occurred to her that there was a distinctive cold chill running across her body that was definitely not normal. Lifting her head as best she could - it seemed like she was  _ stuck,  _ for lack of a better word - she saw that she herself was naked. Fear began to trickle down the back of her spine, just as Tony climbed onto the bed, hovering above her, a dark smile appearing on his lips.

“-but I can work with you being up early.”

And with that, Tony dove in for a kiss. Wanda’s eyes flared, and she attempted to move, but the rattling of metal on metal and sharp sensations across her wrists and ankles preempted that. Pressing against her, Tony broke off the kiss and chuckled. “Trying to leave already? That’s rude. I got this set up just for you…” He teased, his hands moving to her breasts. “...can’t have you leaving your own celebration.” 

“W-What the fuck did you do to me?” Wanda demanded, shock and outrage weakly beginning to lace across her voice.

“Oh, not much.” Tony said. “A little sedative here, a few chains there, and well, you’re all nice and ready to have a career change.” He grinned. “The life of a menial drone working bad hours for equally bad pay was an injustice for a pretty thing like you, the life you’ll lead from now on will be far...more...lavish.” His cock, erect and all, pressed against the slit of Wanda’s pussy, and her eyes widened in realization.

“No. No no no. No no no no no-” 

“Hush, little girl, the correct answer is yes…” Tony hissed, as he slid in, watching as hazel eyes dilated all the way and Wanda’s arms flared, attempting - and failing - to get loose. “Oh please, stop trying to get loose. The chains won’t break for someone as delicate as you and I’ve no qualms about simply sedating you again if you make this more trouble than you’re worth.” 

“Tony, stop, you don’t have to do this-” Wanda gasped, as he thrust once, twice, getting a feel for her. She was tight, so tight, to his absolute joy. 

“-oh, but I want to.” Said the man. “From the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you.” He added, pressing kisses to her cheeks. “Had to save you from that sad little café worker life. Come on, admit it, if you’d stayed on that path, all your life would’ve amounted to was being a sad single bitch in a one-room apartment, working a boring job ‘til the day you died. You should be grateful, I rescued you from that.” 

“What?  _ Grateful?! _ You kidnapped-”

A hand clenched about Wanda’s throat, cutting off her words - and air - as Tony leaned down and growled. “I  _ rescued _ you.” He hissed into her ear, relishing the way the expression on her face immediately shifted to fear, the brunette struggling and gasping for air that would not come. “And I can discard you just as easily if you make trouble for me. Are you gonna make trouble for me?”

A head shook frantically in the kind of way that said  _ no. _

“Good.” Tony said, releasing Wanda’s throat from his death grip and letting her gasp frantically for air. Whilst she was distracted, too busy trying to flood her lungs with that vital ingredient of life we call oxygen, Tony resumed his oh-so-pleasurable work, loving the way her breasts heaved with every gasp of air. Wanda trembled with barely concealed fright, and Tony relished it. Little moans began to escape her as she gasped, music to Tony’s ears.

“You see?” He asked, as he felt fluid begin to coat his cock, Wanda’s body betraying her as he fucked her. “You’re enjoying this.” He leaned down to give her another kiss, uncaring about the look in her eyes. “This is where you belong, a plaything for me to enjoy.” A wicked smile briefly appeared, and was gone, as quick as a flash. “You’ll be the perfect little toy for me.” He said, fingers tracing along her neck. “Won’t you?”

“...yes.” Wanda whispered, barely holding back a sob.

“Good. Learning your place early.” Tony hummed. “A woman’s proper place is on her back, her hands or her knees, pleasing her man however he wants, and that’s something you’d do well to learn.” He said, as his fingers shifted, to caress her breasts in the kind of manner that suggested he was appraising them for their size, of which he evidently found lacking, judging by the frown that manifested. “Though in your case, you’ll be doing all of that while caring for our child, too.”

“What-” 

Another hand clench around Wanda’s throat, and the brunette’s protestations, no doubt along the lines of  _ I can’t be a mother, I have plans for my life,  _ you know, superfluous  _ shit  _ that self-proclaimed feminists and the like often said, found itself strangled and cut off so well it might as well have been a beheading right out of the Reign of Terror. “You heard me, bitch.” Tony said, after a moment spent choking the brunette. “You’re gonna be a mama. I don’t care what you have to say, you’re gonna be a good little girl, take my cum, and give me a child, and  _ then _ you’re gonna be a good mama and raise the little bastard to be my heir. Step out of line and well...” He drew his finger back along her throat. “...I’m sure our little brat will accept a sob story about how mama tragically died in an accident. Happens all the time, you wouldn’t be much of a news sensation, after all, you’re just a service worker, and a terrible one at that.”

Tears began to prick at Wanda’s eyes, and soon fell. Tony, uncaring about the fear and revulsion that had no doubt begun to flood the brunette’s veins, continued to thrust, determined to fulfil the desires gripping him, the ones as old as life itself. He was going to give Wanda the greatest gift of them all, whether she liked it or not, and she would cherish the life they created here tonight. Whatever dreams of achievements and changing the world that she may have held would take second place to changing diapers and raising the little bastard, and she would be happy about it.

He certainly was.

A mix of moaning and sobbing filled the air as Wanda’s ordeal continued. The brunette was crying so much, tears staining her face, the brunette’s sobs music to his ears. This...this was a woman’s proper place. Brushing away an avalanche of wetness, Tony pressed a kiss to Wanda’s cheek. “Are you ready, slut?” He hummed, sick pleasure coursing up his veins as he came. “Gonna give you what you fucking deserve.” 

Wanda gagged as she felt Tony come, that sickly warmth sliding up between her legs as Tony sated himself. That hot stickiness of his semen shooting into her made her recoil, flail with what little was left of her strength. Too lost in himself, Tony didn’t seem to notice - or care - pressing his lips against hers as he took what he wanted, enjoying every second of his orgasm. Wanda felt something inside of her  _ snap, _ and she went slack in Tony’s grasp, the fight gone out of her entirely. She stared blankly at the ceiling, counting the seconds until he finally slowed and stopped.

“God…” Tony said, smirking down at her. “...that was good.” Wanda didn’t respond, hazel irises flicking over to stare at him, before moving back to their original position. “You’ve learned your place, I see. And if you ever forget, well...you know what’ll happen.” He mused, pulling out of the brunette, trusting that he’d done the job and given her a gift she - if she knew what was good for her - would accept with open arms. “Now say thank you.” For a moment, Wanda said nothing, and Tony felt rage well up within him. He reached down and grasped her throat, squeezing painfully,  _ finally _ getting a reaction out of the young woman. “What do you say when someone’s given you a gift, slut?” He asked.

“...thank you.” Wanda gasped at long last, through broken lips.

“See?” Tony said, as he released her neck and let the brunette breathe once more. “That wasn’t so hard.” He retrieved his clothes and redressed himself just as quickly, walking back over to press another kiss to Wanda’s lips. “Don’t worry, baby.” He said. “I’ll be back to make sure my gift took. And if it didn’t, well...we’ll just be doing this again, and again, and again.” Turning to leave, Tony smiled a brilliant smile, the same kind he gave to the cameras on any given day, a hand hovering over the light-switch- “Sleep tight!”

-and with a flick, all was dark.

//

In a crib, Morgan Stark slept.

The little girl - just over a year old - was a heavy sleeper, surprisingly, all things considered. Which was probably why she did not hear the sound of her mother padding down the hallway, nor did she hear the door open. But-

-she did hear the gunshots.

There were four of them, muffled through the door, but loud enough anyways to rouse the infant. As the telltale sound of a body slumping to the floor faintly echoed in the hall, Morgan began to cry, and just as soon as the noise had faded did the door open, and Wanda, the acrid smell of gunpowder clinging to her, walked inside.

“Hush, sweet thing, it’s okay.” Wanda said, picking up the daughter she’d been forced to carry to term. After two years, it was finally over. Her revenge had taken longer than she would’ve liked, and it was messy, but it was done, and that was what mattered. Soothing her daughter back to sleep, Wanda set about gathering the supplies she’d spent the intervening time preparing. 

Tony - may he burn in hell - had one flaw, and that was arrogance. He’d believed Wanda broken, and she’d certainly been, but well, he’d never calculated for the possibility of her putting herself back together again. Over the months of carrying the child he’d forced into her, she’d slowly, surely put the shattered pieces of Wanda Maximoff back together, and it had taken even longer to prepare her revenge.

And well, it was done.

Strapping Morgan into her car seat, Wanda gently closed the door, making sure that everything she needed was there. The cabin - her prison, her place of torture, among other things - gleamed balefully in the moonlight, and with a scowl on her face she stalked back, walking into the room where Tony’s body lay. The man’s corpse had the ghost of surprise on his face. He hadn’t expected her to do that, not after she’d spent the last two years being his personal plaything, to be beaten and fucked as he desired. But after he’d threatened to hurt Morgan if she wouldn’t comply…

...well, that just wouldn’t do.

Striking a match and raising it high, Wanda glared down at the body of her captor, her rapist, her tormentor. “Fuck you, Tony.” She whispered through spiteful lips, dropping the match onto the wooden floor, trusting that the flames would soon rise high. Striding out of the cabin and back towards the car, Wanda waited just long enough for the fire to manifest, smoke and flame pouring through the windows and up the walls. And then she stepped into the car and drove off into the night, naught but herself, what she’d packed, and her daughter with her. She didn’t know where to go, or what to do beyond getting away from that damnable building that she’d spent two years of her life locked up in, but she did know one thing-

-she was free, finally free.

//

**Author's Note:**

> This is really not what I wanted to start the decade off with, especially since I didn't particularly enjoy writing it - though I consider this piece necessary for the purposes of getting in the correct mindset for something else coming up - but whatever! Gotta do what ya gotta do, and we'll hopefully swing back into happier territory soon. Soon-ish. 
> 
> I hope. 
> 
> Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go read some fluffy Wanda fics and cry hysterically. And get drunk. _Really, really drunk._
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
